“Where are you?” he asks.
I don’t know, somewhere in Montana. I tell him the highway number and the last mile marker I remember. The speedometer is tapped out. At this speed, in rural darkness, signs blur by awfully fast. It’s impossible to read them and the GPS isn’t well detailed out here in the sticks.
“Any sign of them yet?” Uncle Grady asks. “The boys took the trucks you told them to and they’re coming. Right behind you.”
Not coming fast enough, and that’s the fucking problem.
“Nothing. If that prick was ever at the last three stops, Herc would’ve sniffed him out.”
Grady chuckles. “Still can’t believe you enlisted the pig. I mean, I can’t talk shit considering I got a hand from a tiger once, but...just keep it together, West. I’m on my way too.”
A flashback strikes, making me squeeze the wheel harder.
The ambush. The trap. The massacre. I saw what happened when I let too many good people come together in one place, when we don’t have the intel or the support.
Hellfire. Screaming. Smoke. Blood.
Have you ever smelled human flesh burning before? It becomes my whole world with every breath and I don’t want to breathe. Oh, Jesus, I don’t want—
“No!” I yell it so loud Herc’s chubby head whips around to look at me. If there’s ever a time I won’t let those memories drag me back to hell with their sharp teeth, it’s now. “No, Uncle Grady. Stay with Aunt Faye and the kids. The family needs you right now and I’ve got enough backup. How close are they?”
“Under ten miles last I heard. They’re gaining ground fast, finding their bearings with those big ol’ trucks. Faulk and Ridge rounded up everybody they could and they’re right on your tail. Don’t worry, West, we’ll catch this son of a bitch.”
My gut burns with hope.
He needs to be right.
I can’t have others hurt again on my account, for my mistakes.
My throat locks before I can protest.
“Uncle Grady—”
“Weston, listen! You aren’t in this alone. Not this time, and I know this isn’t the time or place, but you’ve never been alone. It’s past time you realize it and accept the help. At least consider it payback for helping me save Willow.” He pauses, his breath this gentle harshness that makes me feel weirdly comforted. “Now, Drake says they’ve got the chopper moving northwest, just in case. They’re completing a forty-mile grid. If they don’t spot anything, they’ll head south, right ahead of you. Just tell us if you see a white hauler pulling a pack of covered cars.”
He’s right. I have to save Shel, and if all the strongest men in Dallas have my back...
Time to man up. Accept the aid.
For her sake, her life.
Goddamn, everything I’ve always done was for her.
“How’d you get the truck’s description?” I ask.
“They jacked it from North Earhart according to Marty. Also, the guy checking into the B&B saw it tearing down the narrow little road that leads in there. He told Marty that, too.”
My heart starts pounding harder.
“Did he see if they had a woman?”
“No. He just thought a truck that big seemed a little out of place there on a night like this,” Grady says quietly.
Another powerful wave of guilt lifts me and chucks me on my face again.
Fuck.
All of this could’ve been avoided—stopped— if I’d just gone with my instinct and went after Hudson. Stomping my foot harder on the accelerator, I hear my engine growl like a werewolf.